Such a Pretty Face by Annabelle Costa

Chapter 18

I wouldn’t say I’m a Facebook addict or anything, but I have several hundred friends and I usually log on a few times a day. My profile photo is just my face, and it’s one from college, when I was quite a bit lighter. As I’ve said, I’m way better on the internet than I am in real life. Out of all the Facebook friends I’ve got, only a handful have ever been my friends in real life.

For days after my trip to the zoo with Brody, I’m in a great mood. But then, a few days later, I’m sitting in my room, singing Celine Dion to myself, when I log onto Facebook and see a disturbing update on my friend feed. Apparently, “Nadia Patterson wrote on Brody Nolan’s wall.”

Nadia Patterson is a girl I knew in high school. She was in my class, but we weren’t friends—not even close. Nadia wasn’t the most popular girl in the world, but she was sexy. She had long, straight blond hair that was always streaked with several other colors, and you could always see more of her legs than you could of her skirts. I heard she got suspended once for refusing to change into something less revealing.

I wasn’t friendly with Nadia in high school. I remember we worked on some project together for social studies class during junior year. We went to the park to work, and most of the time, I was working while Nadia was smoking a joint in plain view of everyone. But she was nice—at least she offered to share with me. (I said no, good little girl that I was.) Anyway, a few years ago, Nadia sent me a friend request and I accepted.

And then I became her.

Nadia takes a lot of photos of herself. A lot. Getting a new shade of lipstick is a cause for Nadia to post like twenty selfies. She’s an aspiring actress, so she loves being photographed and I think she’s hoping if she takes enough pictures of herself, she might be “discovered.” Anyway, when guys I met online asked to see a photo of me, it was only too easy to go into the cache of Nadia’s seductive photos. Needless to say, most of the guys enjoyed the photos.

But I couldn’t figure out why she’d be writing on Brody’s wall. How would she even know Brody? As he pointed out to me once, he was a junior when we were freshmen. Then again, Nadia seemed like the kind of girl who hung out with hot upperclassmen guys.

I look at Brody’s wall and I can almost hear Nadia’s sexy voice: “Brody Nolan!!!! Is that you? Where have you been hiding yourself, Brody???? I hope you remember me! If you don’t, I’ll give you a hint: NYE in Times Square! Now THAT was a night I’ll never forget!”

Okay, what the hell is that? What went on between Nadia and Brody on some New Year’s Eve that was so memorable? I don’t even know what to think about it. Christ. I skim to Brody’s reply:

“Hi, Nadia. Of course I remember you. Who could forget that tattoo? Wow, it’s been a while. Married with kids yet?”

I stare at the screen. Tattoo? Nadia had a tattoo? When she was in high school?

And here’s the part that freaks me out. I don’t remember any visible tattoos from any of the many, many photos of Nadia. And in some of those, she was really scantily clad. So that means that Brody got to see her body in a place that isn’t generally clothed.

Which means…

I try to push that next thought out of my head as I read Nadia’s response: “Haha, nope. Still living the swinging single life. And I see from your profile that you’re still single yourself, Mr. Nolan!”

Of course, I immediately click on Brody’s profile, and sure enough, Nadia’s right. Brody has not switched his relationship status from “single.” And now he’s flirting with Nadia freaking Patterson.

I switch back to their wall conversation, but I don’t see any response from Brody. Of course, that doesn’t mean he never responded. Maybe he just responded privately.

I get this horrible sick feeling in my stomach. Camille has called me a few times since our last conversation about Brody, but I haven’t been taking her calls. I’m just not in the mood to hear her tell me what a horrible guy he is. Brody is a nice guy. I trust him.

Except I admit, there are some times when I’m not entirely sure.

Why didn’t Brody change his relationship status on Facebook? Why is he pretending to be single? And why is he flirting with Nadia Patterson?

None of these things are good signs. If he could have someone like her, why would he want me?

Screw it, I’m calling Brody.

It takes half a dozen rings for him to answer. I’ve nearly given up when I hear his voice: “Hello? Emily?”

“Hi,” I say, suddenly feeling shy.

“You never call me.” He doesn’t sound suspicious, just pleased. “I got excited when I saw your name on the screen.”

Aw, he’s so sweet. And cute.

No wait, I’m mad at him.

“Brody,” I say. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Anything.”

I take a deep breath. “How do you know Nadia Patterson?”

“Who?” I have to say, maybe he’s a great actor, but he genuinely sounds like he doesn’t know who she is.

“Nadia Patterson,” I repeat. When he doesn’t say anything, I add, “She wrote on your Facebook wall.”

“Oh! Nadia, right.” He still doesn’t sound upset or guilty. “She went to high school with us. Hey, wasn’t she in your class or something? She was, like, really young.” He laughs. “Not legal.”

I can’t stand this another minute. “What happened New Year’s Eve at Times Square?”

“Huh?”

It all comes out in a gush of words: “She wrote… Nadia asked you if you remembered New Year’s Eve like it was important. And then you said you did. And then Nadia said that your Facebook status is still single. Which it is.”

There’s a long pause on the other line, then finally Brody busts out laughing. “Holy shit, Emily. Are you jealous?”

I don’t know what’s so funny. I mean, he was flirting with an attractive blond on Facebook. I have a right to be jealous.

“No,” I say defensively.

“I think you are.” He sounds amused. “Wow, that’s… adorable. And flattering.”

“Well, you were flirting with her,” I point out. Although I do feel a little dumb right now.

“Come on, that wasn’t flirting,” Brody says. “And even if it was, so what? You really think I’m going to cheat on you with Nadia? First, I would never ever do that to you. Second, you think Nadia would be overcome with lust when she laid eyes on me and she’d just have to be with me? You think that’s a realistic thing that might happen?”

“I… I don’t know,” I mumble. “You’re pretty cute.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” he laughs. “But objectively, I mean, come on.”

I do feel reassured that he’s not planning to cheat on me with Nadia. But what he’s saying is a little unsettling. I had convinced myself that he asked me out because he found me attractive, as crazy as that sounds. But now I wonder if he just asked me out because he found me unattractive. So unattractive that he thought I might say yes to a date with a quadriplegic guy.

Then again, he certainly acts like he thinks I’m attractive.

Maybe Brody realizes he said something wrong, because he adds, “Emily, you’re so wonderful. I’d never cheat on you in a million years. I’d have to be a complete idiot.”

He sounds like he means it. Maybe I’m the idiot, but I believe him. “How come you don’t change your Facebook status then?”

“I don’t know,” Brody says. “Because I’m twenty-nine years old, and the first thing I do when I meet a great girl isn’t rush to change my stupid Facebook status? Seriously, I’m not even sure I know how.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well, it’s not that hard.”

I changed my Facebook status the day after our zoo date. I debated for like an hour if I should do it, if I would be jinxing myself, but ultimately, I couldn’t resist, even though I refrained from saying who I was in a relationship with. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, and I just wanted to scream it from the rooftops. You know what’s crazy? When I changed my status, tons of people “liked” it and posted congratulations. It was a little embarrassing.

“I’ll do it right after we get off the phone,” Brody says. “I promise.”

We talk for another hour, then I go get some dinner. When I get back home, I check on Facebook and see his status has changed to “In a relationship with Emily Davison.” He didn’t just tell the world he’s in a relationship—he told everyone that he’s in a relationship with me. Which is just about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.